Circumstances
by cmwrites
Summary: 300 years into the future, Mewtwo is given a chance to redeem the mistakes of his past... but at a hefty price. Slight crossover with Star Trek elements, but not enough to warrant that category.
1. Reminscent

**A/N: **A Pokémon fanfic (with a couple Star Trek references here and there)  
>References "Rogue Chaos", an apocalyptic plot created by my friend Phoenix<p>

_April 21, 2315  
>Cerulean City, Kanto, Japan (Earth)<em>

The grave looked as it had for 300 years. The plaque still in the ground; marble with the words "Jeffrey Peter Malashok / 1990 – 2015 / 'A True Hero at Heart'" engraved into it. A soft rain drizzled down on the dismal graveyard, filling the air with the smell of wet grass and the coolness unique to such conditions. Each of the 1500 graves was surrounded by a forcefield to protect the memorials from the elements. The field would shudder each time a raindrop fell upon it, like an animal would shake from its fur. Or perhaps the fields were merely shaken by the tragic memories each protected.

But Kanto had been lucky…The other Japanese regions had lost hundreds of thousands in the Chaos War, an eight-year horror which had lasted from 2007 – 2015. The death toll for humans had been over a million, total. For Pokémon, no one really knew. Some estimated the numbers to be close to two – even three – million, judging by all those who died of injuries after the cease-fire. A couple rare species had even gone extinct. The Chaos had truly been a moral struggle. It had nearly ripped Japan, and maybe someday the world, apart.

As with all things, though, life moved on. The world picked itself up. Cities were rebuilt, the infected Rogues converted to their normal selves, and a hard lesson about the abuse of power learned. Yes, life moved on, and now 300 years later, the Chaos was merely a chapter in a history school textbook.

Only those whom had lived through it remembered it for the horror it was. They were the legendaries. They had watched one of their own fall to a human, and then others do the same. They had been forced into an unhappy alliance, and after the war, had gone back to their respective homes. They, too, faded into history. Yet the memories would remain.

None of them could ever forget those eight years.

The cemetery was empty as he stood there, squatted in front of the grave. A long, violet tail wrapped around his feet, lying still in the increasing rain. The drops were beginning to soak the thinned cloak over his bony shoulders. The Psychic's head was bowed; eyes closed in thought.

He didn't come here as often as he used to. At first it had been a sort of self-punishment. It had been to constantly remind himself of how close he – and the other legends, for that matter – had come to failure. In some ways, they had failed. They'd failed in their duties as guardians; protectors. The evidence lay in each grave here and elsewhere. He, like Suicune, the first victim of the war's ringleader known only as "the Pharaoh", had fallen prey to the Rogue Chaos viral toxin. If anything, he had failed a personal vow. That vow, the _promise_ to never submit to the will of any human ever again. He'd madeit standing on a long-forgotten island, surrounded by the skeletons of his first victims…

He banished the thought. The centuries-old memory remained burned into his subconscious, seemingly there for good. It was not a time he was proud of. His dark eyes opened and stared at the plaque lying in the ground. "A true hero at heart", indeed. But no inscription could ever rightfully summarize the legacy Jeffrey Malashok had left behind, nor his impact on others… Even far into the future…

**"Mewtwo."**

The voice jerked him rudely from his musings as his given name was called. His tail twitched and his eyes went to the right. A middle-aged Korean man with silver hair streaked with navy approached. He wore a Class B Starfleet science division uniform with two filled pips and a blank one. His eyes were a bright crimson, but in this day of cosmetic surgeries which could mask one's species, they weren't surprising.

But the Genetic Pokémon knew who this individual was. Unfortunately. He sighed but did not stand.

_"We are alone here. There exists no need for disguises,_ 'Lieutenant-Commander'_."_ He seemed to mentally spit the rank designation as he glowered at his guest.

**"Well, my dear Psychic, you'll excuse me if I would rather not have the entire Alpha Quadrant studying me."**

_"I guarantee the Starfleet scientists will treat you far better than I ever was by my own."_

**"Now, now, that's rather unfair of you-"**

Mewtwo snorted and was upright in a heartbeat. _"What do you want, Dialga? Surely you would not come all this way simply to 'chat'."_

**"Quite right."**

A pause. _"On with it, then,"_ he prompted the Temporal Pokémon.

The avatar took a few steps forward and stopped next to him, in front of Jeffrey Malashok's grave. **"You knew this human, did you not?"**

_"I did."_

**"And you come here frequently."**

_"Lest we forget the mistakes of our pasts,"_ Mewtwo stated coldly.

Dialga's relatively pleasant expression faded. **"You always were one to hold a grudge."** His red eyes focused on the other legendary. **"However, any self-blame you hold may not be entirely unfounded."**

His gaze sparked with sudden fury. _"I recognized my faults three hundred years ago while you and your damned _accomplices_ sat back and denied-"_

**"I am not here to stand and allow you to hurl insults in my direction. Now, are you finished?"**

Still glowering, the Genetic Pokémon at last nodded his assent.

**"Very well."** He pursed his lips, thinking, and then looked back up. **"I've been doing a bit of… research, you could say. Looking at causes for events, what went wrong, the circumstances needed… I ran across something rather interesting."** Dialga turned away slightly, looking at the Psychic in his peripheral vision. **"You were one of the first Rogues, yes?"**

_"I was among the first infected, yes."_

**"Would you also agree you were instrumental in the Pharaoh's rapid rise to power?"**

_"Not nearly so much as Aurora,"_ he argued, referring to the leader's captured Suicune.

**"That's not what I asked."**

_"I do not see the point of this interrogation."_

**"Just **_**answer**_** the **_**question**_**, Mewtwo."**

He seemed to fidget, but his glare never wavered. _"Keiichi knew I would be very useful and so he pursued me. I unwittingly aided in the destruction of several major cities and the captures of a few legendaries."_

**"So, then, how would things have been different without you in the picture?"**

Mewtwo stopped and didn't say anything for several seconds. Just what was the steel dragon getting at? Then it hit him. _"Pure speculation,"_ he replied haughtily, starting to turn to move away. They were thinking the same thing.

Dialga apparently had other plans, catching the Psychic on the shoulder and forcing him to turn about. **"You know I'm right. You're just afraid to admit it."**

_"I resent that notion."_

**"I'm sure you do, not that that changes the facts."**

_"You don't know any of that for sure."_

**"Quit challenging me; you won't win. You forget your **_**place**_**, Mewtwo."**

"I have no place!" he snapped back with renewed furor. The dragon fell silent. He took the opportunity to turn about and start walking away.

**"Mewtwo, please, wait,"** Dialga called. He stopped with a sigh. **"All I'm asking you to do is consider your options."**

_"You're considering changing the timeline."_

**"Only for the better."**

Silence.

_"Assume you did allow me to travel back in time and destroy my existence before it happened. I would be creating a paradox, not to mention numerous changes in the timeline."_

**"Let **_**me**_** worry about that."**

_"There could be unforeseen consequences; patterns which cannot be predicted."_

**"I really wish you would leave the technicalities to me."**

He looked away, first to the ground, then to Jeffrey Malashok's grave. The other thousand-plus graves blurred in his peripheral vision, but they were still there…

_"I need time to think this over."_

**"Of course,"** the other legendary conceded with a nod. **"Just – not too long. I of course consulted with Arceus and Palkia about this matter. They both said this is the least disruptive time to go back. Celebi has concurred with them. You have a week. In seven days, at 1800 hours, meet me here."**

_"Understood… Lieutenant-Commander."_ Mewtwo smirked despite himself. _"One more thing."_ The deity's avatar cocked an eyebrow in question. _"Impersonating a Starfleet officer is a federal crime. I suggest you choose a different forme next time."_

**"I'll keep that in mind. Goodbye, Mewtwo."**

_"Likewise, Dialga."_

And the Temporal Pokémon was gone, leaving only the genetic legendary, his thoughts, and a thousand graves surrounding him.


	2. Revelations

_"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."_

"I'm always happy to. But, if you don't mind my asking, why couldn't we have just conducted this over a subspace channel?"

Mewtwo stood facing his companion, the busy lights of San Francisco a dramatic backdrop on the cool spring night. The age-old cloak still hung over his shoulders, shielding him from the elements and the curious eyes of those below. With Starfleet Academy and a number of important government Federation buildings nearby, the area saw quite a lot of traffic. A shuttleport sat a few blocks away, as well. However, he didn't believe anyone would think to search the roof of an old hotel for an engineer living on Vulcan and a Psychic older than the United Federation of Planets.

To the woman before him, he replied, _"I sought you because I value your counsel… and your acquaintanceship."_ He glanced away briefly._ "I also wished to see you in person, Kendra. This may be the last we see of each other."_

Her brow furrowed at his claim, and she approached him, wrapping her brown shawl closer around her shoulders. She had a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of brown pants on, but it was still chilly so high up. "Why? Where are you going? It's only a three or four day trip from Vulcan, you know, so if that's the problem…"

_"Not at all,"_ Mewtwo interrupted, putting up a paw to stop her. The 32-year-old pursed her lips, but seemed to prompt him into an explanation. The legend just sighed and said, "_I'll explain in a short while."_ He paused. He'd never been great at conversation. "_How are things with Toral?"_

She smiled at the mention of her Vulcan husband. "Oh, I don't know, he's very… logical." Kendra Wright laughed, her face lighting up like a beacon in the night. Everyone knew that the Vulcan race, the first to contact humanity, had a reputation of aiming to purge emotion in favour of logic. She at last met his bemused gaze and smiled. "You'd like him, Mewtwo. He's so stoic on the outside but he really is a wonderful father and husband." The woman chuckled. "T'lan is six years old now. Can you believe that? Time sure flies…"

Even he felt a twinge of a pleasant expression at his lips when she mentioned her daughter. Time did, indeed, seem to fly by "at warp speed", or so the saying went these days. It seemed like only yesterday extra-terrestrial life had been little more than a myth – anomalies such as Deoxys excepted, of course. Now, of course, inter-species relationships were practically the norm. Kendra was a prime example. Even he couldn't have imagined this day ever coming.

But perhaps he never would.

"_Come."_ He motioned for her to follow, and he carefully sat down near the edge of the roof. She joined him a moment later, sitting cross-legged across from him.

The Psychic steepled his paws, thinking. At last, he asked her, _"You know why I have kept watch over your family line for over three hundred years, yes?"_

"Of course. The story gets passed down every generation."

And indeed, it had.

_"I want you to know the reason 'why' in its entirety."_

Her eyebrows lifted at his claim and Kendra sat up straighter. "All right, knowing is different when it comes to know, so just what are you-" She saw his paws outstretched, palms up, in front of her own. She eyed him askance.

"_You _are_ married to a Vulcan."_

"A _mildly_ telepathic race."

_"On the contrary. Some Vulcans have abilities which rival those of Betazoids,"_ he argued, referring to another telepathic, humanoid race.

"Both more similar to me than you… No offense."

_"None taken. Except that I was engineered with human DNA spliced into my genetic code."_

Kendra just crossed her arms.

_"Please, Kendra. I will be careful."_

After several seconds of merely staring at him, she uncrossed her arms and moved forward a few centimeters. She set her hands palm-down in his, lightly touching. The woman took in a sharp breath as she felt an odd surge through her mind and body, like a shock.

"You've done this before, right?"

_"Hm?"_ Mewtwo's telepathy seemed sharper; closer to her mind.

"This whole pseudo-mind-meld thing."

_"With a human? Once or twice."_

"Well, don't do anything… risky. I have a Sh'ran Class vessel to work on when I get back to Vulcan. The warp drive needs to be re-calibrated again…"

_"I _understand." He gave a sigh that was barely audible. He wondered briefly if she'd had these kinds of issues with her husband, as it was customary for Vulcan couples to form a deep psychic bond early in their marriages.

_I heard that,_ came Kendra's mind through the link that was already forming between them, and growing stronger every second.

_"Good,"_ he sent back. _"Clear your mind… Close your eyes… Focus on my voice.. . I am going to take you back… Follow me there."_

In a split second they were whisked from San Francisco and sent spiraling through a mental vortex. Just as it had started, though, it stopped. They both landed in a pile of rubble. Mewtwo managed to land on his feet, and quickly located his companion, who hadn't been so lucky. He held out a paw to help her up.

_Where are we?_ Her "voice" seemed muted, as in a dream… or a memory. Kendra grabbed his paw and pulled herself up.

He looked around, the memory coming back. _"Eterna City, Sinnoh. August 21, 2013. Though, technically, you and I are still seated on a rooftop in San Francisco."_

_So this is all just a memory of yours?_ She ducked instinctively as a huge shadow passed over them. It seemed so real, so vivid… Off in the distance, there was an explosion, and smoke and dust swelled up in the air. The sky seemed clouded over, the once great city either aflame or in ashes. _We're in the middle of the Chaos War,_ she suddenly whispered, eyes wide with realization.

_"Come."_ The Genetic Pokémon waved her over off the mound of rubble and through the wreckage. She jogged after him, stepping carefully. It felt too much like reality to be nothing more than a memory.

He led her around what had once been a Pokémon Center, around a once-revered city. The world seemed to be on fire. It was a world wrecked by the word this time would forever be known by: Chaos.

They approached the splintered wall of what had once been a Mart. A young man was sitting with his back against the wall, grimacing and clutching his arm. His hand was stained red with blood, his clothes ripped and dirty. Around his neck hung a pendant: a Pokéball charm with the golden-red wings of a phoenix. The mark of the Kibou no Senshi.

_Who is that?_ Her brow furrowed. _He's just a kid._

_"On the contrary. He was 24. He was part of the Kibou no Senshi; Hero Rank. Please, go on. You need to hear this. He will not see you, for this is but a memory."_ He gave her a gentle nudge in the young man's direction.

Cautiously, she approached the blonde-haired soldier and knelt beside him. She wanted to speak to him, but knew he wouldn't hear her. Wouldn't do any good, anyways.

Around the corner, a figure suddenly dashed toward them. Her eyes widened further yet at the realization that it was, in fact Mewtwo – 300 years prior. She stepped out of the way as the Psychic stopped and dropped a few supplies out of his arms: Rubbing alcohol, gauze, tweezers, and a bottle of water.

_**"Drink this. You have lost too much blood."**_

The young man chuckled mirthlessly and took the bottle of water handed to him. **"We really have to stop meeting like this."**

_**"Stop taking bullets and shrapnel and perhaps we will not have to."**_ Mewtwo unscrewed the bottle of rubbing alcohol and ran the tweezers through the liquid, sterilizing them as best he could. _**"Remove your hand from the injury."**_

**"You're not thinking of–"**

The legendary just growled under his breath and forced the young man's hand away telekinetically. A split-second later, he dumped a good amount of alcohol on the wound. The Hero gasped sharply, fists clenching. His eyes watered at the pain.

_**"Mark my words, Jeffrey, this is for your own well-being."**_

Kendra's eyebrows shot up at the name. _Jeffrey… Jeffrey Malashok, of course!_ She glanced over at the memory's keeper. He nodded to confirm her suspicion, and so she watched on…

In one swift move, Mewtwo removed the lodged bullet with the tweezers and tossed it away. Another wash with the alcohol and he started wrapping the wound with the gauze.

**"Hey, Em."**

_**"Hm."**_

**"Have you ever considered going into medicine?"**

His facial muscles twitched in an imitation of raising one's eyebrow. _**"Perhaps I should, since you apparently need your eyes and cerebral cortex checked. For one, I am a Pokémon."**_

**"I see Chanseys in the Centers all the ti-"**

_**"Two, I was created as a weapon, not a medical technician. And three, you're only saying that because I have managed to save you on multiple occasions because of your habit of nearly getting yourself killed every time you step out the door."**_

**"Heh… That's 'cause I hang out with crazies like you, Em."**

Kendra giggled at the apparent nickname and both Mewtwo and his memory sighed, almost simultaneously.

The Psychic finished wrapping the gunshot wound and tied it off. He handed the rest of the gauze to Jeff. _**"Try to change your bandages at least once every four hours. I believe there is a clinic nearby."**_

**"Yeah, yeah, I took First Aid."** With a groan, the young man pushed himself to his feet. He wobbled and grabbed Mewtwo's arm for support. He steadied himself, and looked to his unusual acquaintance. **"Em, can I ask you to do me a favour? Kind of a… personal one?"**

_**"You may ask."**_

**"Well, just in a worst-case scenario, should anything happen to me during the war, could you… Well…"** He rubbed the back of his neck. **"Just… kind of… keep an eye on Kaleen? Make sure she's okay, family and all? And if anything happens, I want you to tell her."** Jeff grimaced. **"I'm sorry, I know it's asking a **_**lot**_**…"**

_**"No, not at all,"**_ Mewtwo tried to reassure him. _**"She is your fiancée. You care about her deeply and wish for her happiness."**_

He gave a sad smile. **"I love her."**

_**"…But your concerns are a bit premature."**_

**"Em, people die out here every day."**

_**"And yet you keep coming back."**_

**"Yeah, because…"**

_**"Because **_**why**_**?"**_

**"Because it's the right thing to do."**

Mewtwo didn't reply. It seemed he didn't have a reply at all. But he looked on not with anger, or pity, or even confusion, but with concern.

**"Em, I can't be happy back at home in Cerulean, even with Kaleen, knowing that the Yami no kaze are destroying everything I know and love. I can't sit back and do nothing. You know what that's like, yeah? That's why you never hid away like the other legends. Well, I feel the need to do something."**

Following a long pause, he admitted, _**"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few…"**_

**"…or the one,"** Jeff finished. **"But I still want my one to be happy. Just a precaution, yeah? So… could you?"**

_**"I will… endeavor to console her and be there for her as I am able."**_

**"That's all I ask."**

_**"And I have something to ask of **_**you**_**, Jeffrey."**_

**"Yeah?"**

Any hint of a pleasant expression quickly faded from the legend's countenance. _**"Given my… unfortunate infection… I need you to promise me that you will do as I tell you if you are around me and the virus threatens to… take over."**_

Kendra knew he was referring to the Rogue virus, which could drive the sanest Pokémon into sheer madness. She also knew he didn't like to talk about it… at all.

**"What…"** The human narrowed his eyes. **"What do you mean?"**

_**"If I tell you to put me in a Master Ball before I lose all reason, you do it. If I tell you to drag me to Giovanni kicking, you do your best. If I tell you to put a bullet in the back of my head, you do it without hesitation."**_

Jeff's mouth opened and closed like he was a Magikarp trapped on land. **"I can't – But you-"** he stuttered unintelligibly.

_**"Promise me!"**_

**"I can't!"** He shook his head wildly. **"Like it or not, Mewtwo, I consider you a friend. We've known each other, what, eight, nine years? And don't give me that crap about you doing things on your own. You can't just ask me to-"**

_**"Jeffrey, please, attempt to understand. If something happens and the virus regains control…"**_ He rubbed his face. _**"To go through that **_**again**_** would be a fate worth than death. It would be a living hell."**_

**"Fine,"** Jeff at last conceded. **"But only because you begged."**

_**"Hardly begged."**_

**"Yeah, yeah, I know humility's not your strongest suit."**

_**"Perhaps not, but that conversation never occurred."**_

The young man wrinkled his brow at the Psychic. After a moment, though, he caught on and smiled broadly. **"Right, because it never needed to."**

_**"You're catching on."**_

**"Ah, despite the fact that I'm 'merely human'?"**

_**"Nobody is perfect."**_ Mewtwo smirked. _**"I know a clinic nearby. I can drop you off there. We should be going."**_

Jeff gripped the Genetic Pokémon's upper arm, and they vanished in a rush of azure light. They were gone.

Kendra felt her own accompanist take her shoulder, and they went spiraling back to reality…

And her view on him seemed changed forever. He caught the final thought and mused, _However long 'forever' may be for me._


	3. Conclusions

Kendra awoke from the memory with a sharp gasp, and she uttered a breathless groan of pain. She pulled her hands away and brought them to her head, mouth still agape as she tried to reorient herself. The woman felt herself shaking, not so from the memory as from the stress it had on her psyche. The connection had faded, and now she was alone with her thoughts.

_Almost_ alone.

_"The pain will dissipate."_

She finally opened her eyes, but the city lights blinded her temporarily. Her vision adjusted, and through the bright backlights she managed to focus on her Psychic acquaintance. Kendra found her voice and weakly remarked, "That… was _nothing_ like melding with Toral."

Mewtwo seemed to attempt a smile, but failed. _"You managed very well nonetheless. It was quite a distant memory."_ Even he seemed far away; lost in thought. _"Two years later Jeffrey died at the hands of the Yami no Kaze's second-in-command. I found his body not two hours post-mortem."_ He clenched his paws into fists and looked up at her painted. "Hours, _Kendra, mere_ hours." With a frustrated growl, the Psychic flung a wave through the air, scattering several Zubat. He stood from his spot and paced over to a different side of the roof.

After a minute, Kendra moved to join him. Mewtwo didn't budge; merely stood with his arms folded, staring to the west. She tentatively laid a hand on his shoulder. For once, he didn't immediately shrug it off.

"You know there's nothing you could have done. The circumstances just didn't pan out. Besides," she went on softly, "you repaid him in a greater way than he could have ever known. Not only did you keep an 'eye on' Kaleen, you watching over her descendants for generations."

_"Primarily out of guilt,"_ he amended.

"I don't know, sounds to me like you got pretty close to our family just by being there."

He didn't say anything back. But what could he have said? She was right. He _had_ kept in relatively good touch with parts of the descending line of Kaleen Grant's family since her fiancée's untimely death the final year of the war. And yet…

_"I have been offered the opportunity to mend the mistakes of my past."_

She frowned at him, eyebrows pinching together in a silent question.

_"Dialga came to me the day I called you to come see me."_

Now her eyebrows went straight up. "How do I know where this is going…" she muttered in a largely rhetorical question.

Mewtwo finally turned back to her, cloak flapping gently in the breeze. _"He told me that I was largely the reason why the Chaos War did not begin and end in the space of a single year or less."_

"And you believe him?" she cried, scoffing and shaking her head. "Come on, Mewtwo, you yourself told me some of the other legendaries were never that fond of you. Don't let one crabby old dragon get to you."

_"Perhaps, but in all fairness, he was _right_… I looked back on it myself. I was one of the first Rogue legendaries. If not for me, the Kibou no Senshi probably could have taken down the Yami no Kaze rather quickly."_

"Key word there being, 'probably'," she added fairly. Kendra pursed her lips before going on with, "So what are you going to do? Just… erase yourself from history?"

_"Essentially, yes."_

She stared at him. "…Thus risking ripples in the timeline."

_"The effects would be negligible compared to the reduction in loss of life. I could prevent a war."_

"Mewtwo, _think_ about what you're suggesting here, please. I'm an engineer. I study this kind of physics all the time and I know it like the back of my hand. There's a strong possibility I won't even exist if you go back and change things. Something drastically different could occur."

_"And what is the famous Vulcan saying about expendability?"_

Kendra practically glared at him. With a sigh, she recited back, "'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'…"

_"…'or the one',"_ he finished for her.

"Then why are you here? Hm? Why show me that memory? Why… why all this?" She threw her hands up, incredulous. "Do you _want_ me to try and talk you out of this? Because your mind seems pretty darn made up right now and you're stubborn as a Tauros most of the time."

He closed his eyes and fell silent. _"I needed someone to know. Someone who could understand my reasons for going through with this."_

The woman leaned against a pole and crossed her arms over her chest, hugging the shawl closer around her body. He tried to read her expression, but it seemed so mixed he simply couldn't. It was confused yet understanding, young and naïve yet aged and wise beyond her years, human and yet somehow foreign.

And then she said, "Remember when we first met?"

_"Certainly. I have a decent memory."_

"Of course you do." She grinned and tilted her head at him. "I was fourteen. I lived in Seattle then. I remember you stopped me in an alleyway on my way home from a friend's house late one night." She chuckled and wrung her head in something like embarrassment. "Scared me half to death. I think you were wearing that same cloak."

_"I've had it quite a while,"_ the Genetic Pokémon admitted.

"You told me you were a friend of my father's…"

_"…And you threw your hoverboard at me and tried to run away."_ Even he couldn't help a bit of a sardonic smirk. _"To your good fortune I expected that sort of reaction and managed to save your only transportation home."_

"Yeah, do you really have to bring that up?" she joked. "Anyways, so you kind of freaked me out that day. But you know, I got to know you, and from then on you were there for me pretty much always." Kendra gave a sad little smile. "Can't really say that about any other Pokémon I've ever met. And you know what else? I don't think you're half as bad a person as you think you are – or even used to be. I know you don't like to talk about how or by whom you were created, or some of the mistakes you made in your past, but did it ever occur to you to just… let it go? What happened, happened. As the Spanish say, 'Que sera, sera'."

_"Whatever will be, will be,"_ he translated.

"That's it. So why not just let it be?"

Mewtwo shook his head again. _"Because I cannot. I have a duty as a legend – as a _guardian_ - to those around me. I finally have a chance to fix what I did and I intend to follow through with that._

_"Besides that, I have lived for more than three centuries. I have seen humanity go from being able to go to the moon to being able to go to the stars. I watched humanity pick itself up and rise from the ashes of the Chaos War. I witnessed the first contact between humanity and the Vulcans. I saw the _Enterprise _NX-01 on her first flight into the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. I have seen and lived through more than I could have possibly imagined."_

"And now you're just going to let it all go?" She seemed oddly hurt.

_"I have no choice. I would not be able to live with myself knowing I could have changed something that could have saved millions."_

After a pause, she asked in a small voice, "When are you leaving?"

_"Two days from now."_

"…C-could I join you? Just… to say goodbye?"

He blinked. _"I suppose so."_

"I'd like that."

_"As would I."_

Silence filled the air between them, seeming heavy as the weight of the world, and then she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his thin torso in a tight embrace. Mewtwo stepped back, eyes wide as he tried to gauge the situation, but just as he was about to push her gently away, he felt wetness on his thin fur where her face was.

Guilt suddenly weighed on him.

Somewhat awkwardly, he returned the embrace, and her sobs still came silently.

And all at once, Mewtwo wished he wouldn't be leaving this time, this place, this moment, less than forty-eight hours from now.


	4. Redemption

_April 28, 2315  
>Cerulean City, Kanto, Japan (Earth)<em>

"He sure is taking his time getting here…"

Mewtwo looked up from his musings at Kendra's complaint. It was the first she'd spoken since bringing her here to the cemetery roughly an hour ago. _"Dialga is a master of time. If he was worried about being late, that would make him a New Yorker, not a legendary."_

She gave a breathy chuckle, but it died quickly. "Still gotta work on that humour."

_"I was created as a weapon, not a comedian."_

"Yeah, well, when was the last time you saw one of those Rackets or whatever?"

_"It was _Rocket_,"_ he corrected, _"and… it has been a few years."_

"Few hundred's more like it."

_"You would be surprised to see how quickly time passes."_

"I suppose so," the woman replied quietly. She sat forward, running her hands through the grass, the wet dew running through her fingers. It glistened like tiny, microscopic teardrops in the sun. "Will anyone remember you?"

He shook his head. _"No, save for a few scientists who will remember me as nothing more than a failed experiment."_ Mewtwo took a breath and looked away, noticing a figure approaching in the distance. With a sigh, he went on, _"And I plan to override the equipment so that another creation similar to me will not be created. I plan on being the last of Giovanni's tinkering with genetic code."_

"You never told me much about him, did you?"

_"He was a brilliant criminal whose every thought seemed to revolve around profit. In other words, he is largely insignificant in the great scheme of things…"_

But before he could go on, a very familiar humanoid figure – now donning silver and navy robes instead of a fabricated Starfleet uniform – stepped up to them. Mewtwo stood and subtly gestured for his companion to do the same. Dialga's avatar lifted his eyebrows at her.

**"Who is this?"**

_"A friend,"_ the Psychic answered with an air of finality.

The Temporal Pokémon eyed her askance. **"I see… You know this Psychic?"**

"I do. He has watched over my family for three hundred years." She seemed about to go on with what Mewtwo sensed would be a catty remark, and he shot her a warning look. His prediction proved correct when she pressed her lips together and tried not to smirk.

Dialga didn't seem to notice. **"In that case, I regret your loss, but I assume you understand why he is going through with this."**

"Actually, I don't, not really. But I do know that Mewtwo has one of the most honourable and righteous judgments of any individual I have ever had the pleasure of knowing." She turned to the Genetic Pokémon. "I trust him."

He became silent for a brief time before going on. **"We need to get going."**

_"Agreed."_ Mewtwo started towards the deity, but not before Kendra started towards him.

"Wait, Mewtwo, I just-" She wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. "-wanted to say goodbye," she finished in a whisper into his chest.

A little embarrassed this was happening in front of Dialga, the Psychic gently hugged her back before moving her away. He took off the cloak around his shoulders, folded it up, and handed it to her.

_"I want you to have this."_

She frowned at him but took the bundle. "Won't it just disappear once you go back?"

_"That is not the point. The point is that right _now_, I want you to have it."_ He gave her a rue smile and a light pat on the cheek. _"Take care of yourself, Kendra."_

"You too."

With nothing further, he stepped away, moving back towards Dialga. She clutched his folded-up garment as if her life depended on it. She was smiling, but through her pleasant expression a tear slipped down her cheek. Whether it was one of regret or sadness or anger or any other emotion, Mewtwo didn't know.

But in time, it wouldn't matter.

The façade of Dialga's avatar faded, and in its place stood the Dragon himself. The two legendaries exchanged a glance, some silent understanding. Dialga lifted his head and released a deafening roar into the skies, and all at once a whirlwind whipped around them. It spiraled faster and faster, but like in the eye of a storm, the two remained untouched. In a flash, the whirlwind closed in, and they were swept away faster than Mewtwo could even think –

- only to be deposited in what looked like the exact same spot. Except now it was a park, thriving and full of Pidgeys and Rattatas.

**"October 12, 2002, just as you asked,"** Dialga explained. The Temporal Pokémon was once more masked by his human appearance.

Mewtwo gave an appreciative nod. He only had a short time, so he needed to make the most of it… The Psychic took off into the air, rising above the city, a small envelope in his hand. He had been allowed this, and only this. His entire legacy rested in a short note inside the envelope.

He made his way into midtown Cerulean. Thirty-eight-year-old Tami Miles would be at home today because of the stock market closing early, so her job at a local brokerage would be over for the day by now. He hovered over the white house with a dent in the siding – from a baseball accident, perhaps, he thought with a smile. After a moment of indecision, though, he teleported, and found himself standing in a small living room.

On the other side of the house, perhaps in the kitchen, a woman was singing along to an American rock song, largely off-key. Her voice rose above the male's on the radio, drowning out her intruder's footsteps.

"…Still like that old time rock'n'roll; that kind of music just soothes the soul…!"

A Growlithe bounded out of one of the bedrooms, stared at him wide-eyed, and started barking madly.

"…I reminisce about the days of old; with that old time rock'n'roll…"

Her singing stopped and the radio volume suddenly dropped. The canine's barking continued and she started out of the kitchen. "Perro, what are you barking at no-" Her words cut off when she looked up. The ceramic plate in her hands slipped out of her hands.

Mewtwo caught it telekinetically and set it on the table. The woman didn't see, or perhaps didn't care. "Who are you?" she managed to stammer.

_"You are Tami Miles, correct?"_

She gave a nod, still eyeing him suspiciously.

He released the envelope in his hand and let it float over to her. Shakily, she grabbed it out of the air. "What's-?"

_"It is not for your eyes. It is, however, for your son."_

"I don't have a son."

_"But you did adopt one. Four months ago, if I'm not mistaken. Jeffrey Peter?"_

She slowly nodded. "…How do you know so much about my family?"

_"That is unimportant. All you need to know is that you would be doing me a greater favour than you can ever imagine if you gave that to him on his sixteenth birthday."_

"Why?"

_"You'll see in four years."_ Mewtwo offered her something like a smile before vanishing, teleported back to Dialga. Tami would not remember the encounter, he knew, but she would know to give the envelope to her adopted son in less than four years.

And he and Dialga vanished into time's whirlwind again, this time to their final destination.

_December 21, 1994  
>New Island Laboratory, Kanto<em>

The twister faded, leaving the Psychic standing on the doorstep of a large facility. Dialga was, of course, gone, having left Mewtwo to face his own proverbial demons.

The laboratory looked just as he remembered it… Except that he'd never really had the opportunity to see the outside. With a pang of guilt he recalled how he'd only seen the outside after it had been reduced to rubble in a mushroom cloud of debris. Anything before that was largely a blur; memories erased during the gestation period.

He never had regained those memories…

He moved the thought aside and pushed through the door. No one had bothered with security. The island was relatively in the middle of nowhere, too far from Kanto's shore to attract any visitors and too small to hold them. In fact, the lab covered nearly the entire island.

But as impressive as the size was, the inside was nothing short of spectacular.

He looked about the silent laboratory. Almost all of the scientists were on leave at this time, back home for the winter holidays and New Year, precisely why he had chosen this time to come and put an end to things. If no one saw him, it would just be easier for everyone.

It took a short while, but he eventually came to find the large space, occupied by five tanks… four empty, one with a figure inside. He forced himself not to look closer. Mewtwo went straight for the control panel.

_Who are you?_

The child-like voice echoed in his mind. He paused and considered cutting off the voice, even though he knew precisely who was speaking to him.

_"I am you,"_ he replied, and started powering down the first panel.

_How? How can you be me?_

He slid down the second panel. _"I simply am. We are the same individual, roughly three centuries apart."_

_What… what…_ The child's voice began to grow panicked, though at the same time weaker. _What are you doing?_

_"I am preventing you from making several mistakes I know you will go on to make years down the road."_ He pushed down the third panel, more slowly. He couldn't even look in the reflection on the wall ahead of him. He had to force himself to take care of the last two… just two more…

_I feel… I feel tired…_ The voice grew agitated and louder in his mind. _Why are you doing this? Why?_ it demanded.

He did not respond as he let his mind push down the fourth panel, and then the fifth. Soon the supply tubes would run out, as they were cut off now. Without a second thought, he looked at the control panel and it exploded in a flurry of sparks and crackles.

No going back now.

But the child continued to cry, _Why? Why?_ Its voice grew progressively weaker.

It was dying.

He was dying.

Mewtwo at last turned about and away from the destroyed controls. He walked towards the tall glass tank, still filled with the orange embryonic fluid he was so familiar with. The child's sobbing continued in the back of his mind even as he stood in front of the tank. Inside floated a figure that looked just like him. The tubes had disconnected, though, so the young Genetic Pokémon simply floated, suspended in the fluid. The only one still connected was the respiratory tube.

He put a paw on the glass, focusing until he found the young one's mind. _"Open your eyes."_

_I… I can't. I'm so tired. So… tired…_

_"Just try,"_ he pleaded gently. Mewtwo connected with his younger self, and slowly, the child's eyes cracked open in the fluid. It moved forward, and shakily lifted its paw to his. He smiled sadly. _"I am sorry. I would have never wanted it to end this way."_

_Then why does it have to?_

_"Because some fates are inevitable."_

_Fate? What is fate?_

_"It is something beyond our control."_

_Then what is our fate?_

_"We have no fate. Others will decide our fate."_ Telekinetically, he started to remove the respiratory tube. _"That cannot happen. Many others depend on our fate to not occur."_

The young one was looking at him. _You _are _me. Then I am you!_

_"Then you understand why."_

_No._ It tilted its head. _Yes. I don't know. Should I?_

_"It doesn't matter."_ He removed the tube fully now, and tapped into the young one's mind. He focused, using Hypnosis, and the Pokémon's violet eyes slipped shut. _"Just sleep. Sleep… and think of a better place."_

As it started to slip into the peaceful oblivion of death, Mewtwo knew his work here was not complete. He had to be sure that Giovanni nor Doctor Fuji would be tempted to try this again. He paced back to the controls, working quickly. One by one, he systematically overrode each panel in the laboratory. Every computer, every hard drive, every memory bank had to be wiped out.

He teleported up to where he knew the main computer was and grabbed a nearby stool. It took a considerable amount of energy just to do that, and he knew now his time was running out. He tapped into the computer, typing quickly into its interface. It took a bit of hacking and lucky guesses on passwords, but before long it announced that the entire memory was being permanently deleted. No back-up files. No records. No evidence. Nothing could survive.

The legendary stood to go back and make sure he'd gotten every panel, but collapsed as soon as he stood. He looked at his foot and saw it was dissolving. The same was happening to his paws and tail. It was like a virus, eating away at him, taking millions upon millions of cells every second.

He felt panic rise in his chest.

He was dying. His younger self was probably dead, and so he was going to be next any moment now.

In one final push of psychic energy, he sent a catastrophic wave to every computerized machine in the lab space. A sardonic kind of smile came to his face as the chaos erupted around him. Sparks flew. Machines ripped apart. There would be no salvaging this place… no salvaging himself.

He became acutely aware of a presence standing above him.

**"You did it."**

He tried to respond only to find he couldn't. So he thought, _Dialga…_

**"Shh. There's no need anymore. You succeeded."**

_I hope… this has not been… in vain._

Mewtwo felt one last touch, a warm hand on his chest, and the world went dark.


	5. Epilogue

Mewtwo's first thought was that something felt very, very wrong.

Moments after blacking out, he'd somehow regained consciousness. But he felt as if he were suffocating. No, not suffocating, because he didn't feel light-headed. Mentally, he felt… well, fine. Yet every time he tried to take a breath in, it wouldn't come. His body just refused to operate.

In fact, none of his vitals seemed to be working. He felt no pulse in his chest. His lungs felt utterly collapsed. The familiar pulsing of psychokinetic energy throughout his body seemed to have ceased.

_Then you're dead,_ he rationalized.

…But a deceased individual did not think.

Did he?

The Psychic decided to try something. He blinked, and found he could see. Or could he? All around him was nothing but white blank space. He lifted a paw and brought it to his face. He tested his legs. He twitched his tail.

Everything was working, except that nothing _should_ have been working.

He managed to get to his feet, but nothing but white surrounded him. It was bright, yet he had no shadow. When he took a step, it sounded like tile, but there existed no discernible walls nor ceiling.

Just what was this place?

**"One might call it 'purgatory',"** a deep, masculine voice interrupted.

He whirled about, only to find himself facing a fantastic Patronus, easily four or so feet taller than he. His eyes widened briefly in a moment of surprise, but when he spotted Dialga and Palkia flanking the Alpha Pokémon, he realized what was going on.

_"You brought me here. Why? What is this place?"_

The time dragon, on Arceus' right, spoke first. **"We did not know what to do when you at last faded away into oblivion."**

**"It did not seem right to allow you to simply 'fade away', as it were, so we brought you here. A holding center, of sorts."** Arceus went on.

He worked to keep his expression steady. _"You doubted me."_

**"You surprised us,"** Palkia tried to clarify.

Mewtwo glared at Dialga accusingly. _"No… you _doubted_ me! You did not think I would go through with what I promised!"_

**"We did not know **_**what**_** you would do,"** the Spatial Pokémon interrupted. **"Mewtwo, the truth of the matter is that you are an anomaly in history. You were literally not supposed to be here."**

Arceus continued, **"Upon your conception we considered simply erasing you from history."**

**"But we did not wish to interfere with the humans' actions."**

**"And since you were of at least partial legendary blood, we watched to see what you would do,"** Dialga went on after his counterpart.

**"Mew continuously asked us to give you a second chance after your first attempt to wreak havoc on the world…"**

At Arceus' admonishment of sorts, Mewtwo looked at the floor. He was quite sure blood would have risen to his cheeks, had he had any.

**"…and perhaps against my better judgment, I allowed you a chance at redemption. And then another during the Chaos. And you took both. For three centuries Dialga, Palkia, and I allowed you to simply live."**

He looked back up to the three deities. _"Then you knew all along."_ His brow wrinkled as he looked at them more closely. _"Then why? Why allow me to live?"_

Arceus seemed to shrug. **"You proved yourself a legendary. We wanted to see if we could find a different way of preventing the Chaos from occurring, but we simply could not. And… furthermore…"** The stag-like creature looked at Dialga.

**"We found – or, I found, rather – that I could not interfere with your past. I could return there but not alter events."** The quadruped shook his head. **"Why is beyond me. All I knew was that only **_**you**_** could change your own past. It had to be on your accord."**

_"…Which is why you left me at the laboratory alone,"_ Mewtwo assumed. Dialga nodded. Figuring he wasn't going to learn much more about the circumstances behind his temporal tampering, he moved his gaze to Arceus. _"What happens now? Who will remember the Chaos, now that it is more or less erased from history?"_

The Alpha replied, **"Aurora will still become infected, as will two or three other legendaries. These events are inevitable. But anything that would have occurred beyond that, starting with your infection, are erased from history. Only Dialga, Palkia, and I will remember what happened – what could have happened."**

_"You will forgive me if it seems selfish…"_ The words seemed awkward the moment he transmitted them, but he mentally brushed it off and went on. _"…but what of me?"_ He suddenly felt an odd sort of panic rise up in him. _"Surely you are not going to keep me here for the rest of eternity."_

A look passed between the three. Palkia then said, **"We… are not quite sure **_**what**_** to do with you. It would be unfair to simply keep you in this place, given that you, as the Alpha has said, did prove yourself. But it will be a significant amount of time before you can be allowed to return to reality. You have fixed the timeline, but it is still fragile."**

_"Then what am I to do?"_

**"…Nothing."** When his expression fell, Arceus quickly amended, **"For the time being. Eventually, your purpose will become clear. Until then, even I do not know what it is."** He began to back off, pointed hooves clicking against the hard floor as he turned about. **"In the meantime, do as you please. This is your space."** A few footsteps later, the Alpha faded away, Palkia following, leaving only Dialga and Mewtwo.

The Genetic Pokémon sighed and looked around before letting his eyes fall once more on Dialga. _"Haven't you duties elsewhere?"_ he asked, noting a bit of unintentional bite in his telepathy.

**"My duties are to you at this moment, my dear Psychic."** He stepped forward, now certainly towering over the Psychic. **"I know that since before your initial escape from Giovanni, you have been tortured by the loss of a memory. You know it used to be there, but you're not sure what."**

_"I have come to accept that that memory is gone."_

**"That may have been premature."** Dialga seemed to smile. **"Maybe you simply need something to 'jog your memory', as the humans say."**

The Temporal Pokémon faded in the same fashion of his counterpart and master. But before Mewtwo could even ask him to clarify, a young girl's voice rang out in the vast emptiness.

"Mewtwo?"

He turned to face the voice, and after a moment, he focused on a small human girl. Her fair-skinned face, framed by teal hair in waves like the movement of the ocean, held an awkward, nervous sort of smile. But when she met his gaze her smile grew wider and more certain.

And then he remembered.

He remembered _everything_.

He remembered her. He remembered meeting her, as if in a dream, but a dream that seemed so real. He remembered how she taught him about life, about the world, about love and happiness and what it meant to _live_. He remembered how she and the other copies began to fade away, and how she told him not to cry. He remembered she told him to live, because life was going to be wonderful for him, and he'd believed her. And finally, he remembered how he had forgotten.

And the girl in the cream-coloured dress tilted her head at him as she walked towards him, and he knelt to be on her level. With a small giggle, she asked, "Are you real?"

_"I was going to ask the same of you, Ai,"_ he replied.

Her pleasant expression faltered. "But you're so big! I don't remember you growing up. You were just my size… last I remember…" Her smile grew sad and she whispered, "I missed you, Mewtwo."

_"How long have you been here?"_

"I don't know," she admitted, and took a seat on the floor. "I remember fading away, and the next thing I knew I was here, and the big white thing with the pointy toes was standing over me."

Her description made him chuckle. _"You mean, Arceus."_

"Yeah! Well, anyways, it said that it brought me here 'cause it didn't know what else to do with me. It said something about you, and that I'd see you again someday, but… I was sort of hoping I wouldn't."

_"Why?"_

Ai's smile faded completely, and her voice became very quiet again. "Because it would mean that you had died."

_"Ai…"_ He rubbed his temple with a paw. How could he explain it to her? True, the young girl was wise beyond her years, with an uncanny way of understanding and accepting concepts that were difficult for anyone, and yet… She was so innocent; so pure-hearted.

But she would understand.

_"I lived far longer than you can imagine. I have seen both wonderful and horrible things. My life was one of both great joy and great hardship. But I also did certain things that I regret very deeply."_

The girl's brow pinched together in concern. "You? How could you do anything bad?"

_"Perhaps one day I will explain everything to you. For now… simply know that I did."_ Mewtwo paused to gather his thoughts once more. _"I was given the opportunity to set things right in the world. I have that ability. And so, I did. But in turn, I had to give my own life in order to prevent greater tragedies from happening."_

She fell silent for a long time, simply contemplating him, not as a stranger, or even a child, but as an old friend. Ai scooted forward in front of him, and took his paw in her small hands. "Just tell me one thing?" When he nodded, she asked, "How was life?"

He returned her smile.

_"It was wonderful."_ He placed his other paw on top of her hand. _"And I simply cannot wait to tell you all about it…"_

-

_April 21, 2006  
>Cerulean City, Kanto<em>

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Je-eff, Haaappy Birthday to you!"

16-year-old Jeffrey Peter Malashok's face turned red as his two best friends and his parents chorused the song. A small cake sat in front of him, sixteen candles glowing in the dimmed room. The table was surrounded by wrapping paper, various clothes, a new Pokénav system, and a few other miscellaneous items. An unusually small Arcanine chewed on a huge bow, ripping into with its teeth.

"Come on, Jeff! Blow 'em out!" his best friend, Ashlee, insisted.

His other friend, Dawaune, laughed and nodded. "Yeah, do it or I'll shove your face into the frosting!"

Jeff rolled his eyes at his friends. "Fine, fine…" He took a deep breath, and exhaled. In one fell swoop, every candle was extinguished. The small crowd clapped and cheered as his mother went to turn up the lights again. She took her seat, and then snapped her fingers.

"Oh! Jeff, I nearly forgot something…" She smiled apologetically to those gathered. "I'll be right back." She stood back up, and a minute or so later, returned with a small, white envelope in her hand. The woman handed it to her adopted son. "I don't remember who I got this from, but I do remember he told me to give it to you on your sixteenth birthday."

He raised his eyebrows in intrigue as he took the envelope. Ashlee and Dawaune leaned in as he looked at the front. "Jeffrey Peter Malashok…" he read aloud. His name was written in unusually ornate cursive, like the sort of calligraphy he only saw in dedicated Bibles and weird school certificates.

The teenager carefully lifted the seal and opened the envelope. He removed a note, and unfolded it. There was no return address, no date, just a letter written in the same handwriting as was on the envelope. And he read:

_Dear Jeffrey,  
>By the time you receive this, I will be long gone. In fact, that's not even entirely accurate. I will have never existed. If you are reading this, it means that I never existed. Yet, I needed someone to know my legacy.<em>

_At one time, we were – may have been, rather – very close friends. We met under the most unusual, perhaps even unfortunate, circumstances, but those same circumstances bonded us closer than either of us could have ever imagined. We worked together, fought together… To explain it in words is near impossible._

_However, know that this was written not to reminisce on what will never happen, but to be certain someone knows _why_. I learned that there are sacrifices worth making, and that sometimes the 'bigger picture' must be seen before clarity can come about. Perhaps we will never know each other, but you are the one who taught me that principle._

_You have a strong conscience and the heart of a noble warrior. I know you will go far and do great things. My only regret is that I will not be there to share the experience with you._

_Sincerely,  
>M<em>

"Hey, wait, there's a post-script," Ashlee interrupted as he started to fold the letter up. He rolled his eyes, and re-opened it.

_P.S. Your best friend, Miss Ashlee Grant, I believe, has a cousin who is considered quite attractive by human standards. I have a feeling you might be fond of her.  
>As the saying goes, "Go get 'em, tiger."<em>

Dawaune erupted into laughter, Ashlee tore the paper from his hands, face red as beet, and Jeff just grinned at her.

"Didn't you say you had a cousin my age back in Sinnoh?" he asked her. "Kaleen, right?"

"Men!" she exclaimed, throwing the note back at him, and the girl stormed out of the room.

The two boys just sat there and laughed, eventually dying down into chuckles. Dawaune shook his head. "Wow. What a strange note."

"Yeah, tell me about it. But how about that?" Jeff folded up the paper and put it back in the envelope.

"So, who do you think it's from?"

"Beats me."

But Jeff had a feeling that, knowing or not, the letter was true.

Every word of it.


End file.
